Over Nothing
by Sychronergy
Summary: It didn't happen between them. Nothing did.  ? L/Light/L


**Over Nothing**  
>Sychron<p>

**Rating**: T  
>LxLightxL<p>

_It didn't happen between them. Nothing did_.

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><p>It didn't happen between them. Nothing did.<p>

It was a poison-drenched, tightly wounded assumption that Light made; perhaps once, perhaps twice. Possibly more, if pride hadn't selectively hindered his memory. But L was professional, and Light was reserved. L was the greatest detective and Light wasn't anything if not his prime suspect.

In front of the taskforce, and for the sake of his investigation, L did his best to wound the two together. The connection manifested tangibly into a long chain; six-foot in length, and six was the number for love, truth, and forgiveness. But six was just six, and it came before seven; just before _luck_, perfection, and wonder.

Lady Luck had scorned them since the first time L's abyssal eyes met his own wide, amber ones, and Light denied that he ever wondered why he and L could not have met under different circumstance.

The chain never reached seven, and six was just there to mock them.

"Light-kun," L said, his voice a little too low, and Light looked at him, a little too quickly. "Have you found any new leads?"

"Nothing," Light said, and he was eager to look for more.

#

One night, the first night they were chained together, Light realized just how troublesome simple, everyday tasks could get when one had a panda-eyed detective questioning their every move. The awkward pause when Light wondered if he should ask for permission to shower. Then, he simply decided to state it as a fact, "L, I need a shower."

L gave him a look, one that said, clearer than words, "Am I suppose to give you a shower?"

Light knew that L knew what he meant, and in two minutes, the cuff was unlocked.

"Twenty minutes," L said. "You dress and undress here."

Light nodded, they both understood. Light move slowly, deliberately, hating how he was being watched by eyes that were probably counting how many times his muscles tensed while undressing.

"Do you have to watch?" Light asked, shirt unbuttoned, but not quite off.

"Do you have anything to hide?" L's voice was softer, calmer, with an edge Light couldn't define.

Slowly, he pulled down his shirt, and it fluttered shyly to the ground because Light was too anxious to fold it up neatly. He was exposing himself to more than just the chilled air, and he hated how L simply stared blankly. If only L could display some other form of emotion –act a little more abashed, awkward, or normal. Hell, he would even accept a lewd jeer. Then, he could join Misa in her charade to draw L as a pervert, and maybe there would be something less mechanical about the man sitting with one wrist bounded by a self-imposed manacle. When he finished, stoic because he was too mature for shame or trepidation, he stood with his back to L, and turned to look at the detective.

"Light-kun, what are you waiting for?" To Light's ears, L's voice was a private murmur; distracted and husky.

"Nothing," Light replied, slipping into the bathroom, metal doorknob cold against his warm hand.

#

One thing Light knew about L was that L liked to stare out of windows, specifically a large glass window on the twentieth floor. So when they were chained together, L would drag him up so he could indulge in his staring while Light fidgeted around, wondering if it would raise his Kira-percentage if he declares window-watching a useless sport.

"It could," L randomly said one time, breaking the silence that stretched between them. Light felt a certain tension, thicker than the chain that bound them, but he knew it was probably just him.

"What could?" asked Light, as he drew up next to L to stare out the window with him.

Below them, thousands of lights twinkled, and the city sparkled with a kind of innocent beauty that caused an undefined twist in Light's chest.

L did not reply, and Light did not press the matter. Instead, he watched the window. He ignored the city beyond the window to observe the reflection of himself and the man next to him.

When L filled his window-watching quota, he slowly dragged his eyes to Light's taunt form.

"What do you see?" Light watched L's reflected lips form the words as he spoke. He noticed that L didn't move his lips much when he speak. Their eyes met in the window, quiet black against cinnamon brown.

"Nothing," Light replied, staring at the two connected men's reflections against the stark, infinite blackness of night's sky.

#

One time, when L stood up, he swayed, white-clad body tilting precariously, and Light caught him, soft cotton shirt brushing against L's midnight hair, and other arm wound securely around his waist. Light dutifully gripped just a moment too long – to ensure that the world's greatest detective did not crash to the ground. L's hair tickled his chin, and he realized that, the soft spikes were perfectly natural, without the aid of hair gel.

He chided himself for the stupid thought.

"You should get some more rest," he chided, because it was expected from him.

L soon balanced himself, pale hands gently pushing himself off Light's shoulder, and started walking. His gait was confident, and unrelenting. Then he hesitated, head tilting as he turned back, "Light-kun, what are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," Light replied and walked after L like the compliant, obedient student he knew he wasn't.

#

One day, when Light was innocent, and insisted it many, many times to L, L turned to him, looking as if he was on the verge of saying something comforting. Yet, they both knew. Finally, L said "I am sad."

Light turned sharply to look at him, taking in the lollipop L was languidly licking, and the black eyes that implored Light to believe the words.

"Really?" said Light, softly.

When L responded with a hard, confident lick to his lollipop, tongue swirling purposefully against the sweet, red candy, Light wondered what L's 'sad' meant in human terms. Light turned back to his work, and L proceeded to create a distraction by tapping the hard candy against his teeth, creating a 'clack' that resounded and echoed in the large room. Finally, Light turned to L, his enormous well of patience thoroughly dried.

Both knew what the problem was, and so, neither spoke. L stopped, opting to tilt his head back and run the candy up and down on this tongue; over his lips. Staring openly, Light wanted to tell him to eat properly, because this was highly unprofessional and possibly unappealing.

"Light-kun, what do you want?" L finally said, languorously, as he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth to dangle it teasingly above his mouth.

"Nothing," Light replied, set on ignoring the freakish detective and his _habits_.

#

One day, Light wasn't so innocent anymore. He stared out at L, the latter drenched in rain water that trailed dainty down his face, and he urged the other to come back in.

"What are you doing out there?" he asked. The other spoke incoherently about bells, and Light deemed the words too unimportant to bear in mind. He didn't say anything as he slid up next to L. The same rain immersed both, and Light wondered if the wet rain was the first and last thing they'd ever share with one other.

Rain, the ancient hymns murmured, were the tears of God, and Light silently wondered why another man would shed the tears neither he nor L would ever shed.

L was walking back by the time Light returned from his stupor.

"Light-kun, what are you waiting for?" called L, voice drowned out in the storm.

Light watched as a particularly fat raindrop slid off the rails, somehow clear despite the hundreds of other pellets around it. Then it reached the ground, joining the droplets on the ground, indistinguishable, and forgotten.

"Nothing," Light replied, slightly regretful.

#

So when Ryuuzaki laid in his arms, still-warm body against his own heated one, charcoal eyelashes gracefully sliding to brush ivory skin- far too smooth, far too pale- for the last time; it didn't happen between them. Nothing did.

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><p>Review? Thank you.<p> 


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